Behind the Shield
by ShakespearianNerd
Summary: After the death of Caroline's mother, she too became a cop. Working her way through different precincts she eventually finds herself in New York working Narcotics. Hoping for a sense of normalcy, her world is turned on its head when she unknowingly catches the attention of Niklaus Mikaelson-heir to his family's illegal empire. A Klaroline Story
1. Beware the Muffin Man

**Chapter One:** _Beware the Muffin Man_

* * *

Joy is an emotion ineptly felt. There is little that can be done to sustain it and yet so much to jeopardize its luster. As time trudges forward joy dissipates and those who are lucky end their days with contentment, while others are left to suffer in a meaningless ring of numbness. To avoid the inevitability of detachment, artificial bonds are formed and value is placed on arbitrary things in order to instill some sense of self-importance.

Through the drudges of life, so many seek to find a meaning. To see where the division between dark and light lies. Is there a cap to sin? To sorrow? To pain? Or is instead the world a never ending array of crippling lies filtered through pretty mouths with good intentions. All seek meaning, but none truly find it. Those who claim they have throw themselves into it. Blaming some larger power they jeopardize their friends, family, and well-being all in the name of their greater calling. Such was the case with Elizabeth Forbes.

She was a woman of great moral compass. There were no gray areas in her life, only the good and the bad. Elizabeth Forbes found her calling at the age of seven. Attending her father's funeral, she was not overcome with the constricting grief the world was expecting to descend upon her. Instead the young girl–with a good heart and simple mindset–looked at the mourners in attendance. Never had she seen so many people and Elizabeth doubted she ever would come across so many again.

As her father's service continued, Elizabeth listened to the stories of a man who was more than a dad. He wasn't just someone who checked the closet for monsters or stayed home when she was sick. Elizabeth's father was more. He was a hero. His stories of bravery would outlive him, as would the people who he served to protect. No one rose to praise Elizabeth's father on the bedtime stories he told or the tea parties he willingly attended. To the world he was not a father, but rather something of legend–the same kind of hero as shown on T.V.

That day changed the story of Elizabeth's life. She modeled her existence after the pristine image of her idealized father–a man whose death she remembered more than his life. She graduated with top marks from the police academy and establish a career where she helped as many as she possibly could. When the time came, Elizabeth married the first man who asked and soon thereafter had a child–completing her image of the perfect family. This allusion would not last.

One thing Elizabeth did not understand was that her father never put work first. While the world may have seen him as the young man who fought to protect his community, he saw himself as nothing more than the daddy to a precious little girl. She'd loved him for this reason–a love her own daughter would never be able to extend towards her.

Instead of being a dedicated parent, Elizabeth Forbes was a workaholic. She chased down what she thought was her heritage, but in turn sacrificed a healthy relationship with her child. To the townspeople she was the same hero her father was, but to her baby girl, Caroline, she was nothing more than an acquaintance.

Unsurprisingly, Elizabeth's marriage fell apart quickly. Her husband, William, left before Caroline could read. From that point on, though Liz did the best she could, Caroline was left virtually parentless. Unlike her mother, Caroline didn't have the luxury of bedtime stories and tea parties, instead she was raised by the families of Mystic Falls who watched her while her mother pulled double shifts and all-nighters.

In the end Sheriff Forbes died the same way her father did. In the line of duty–protecting someone who was unable to protect themselves. At her funeral the same stories of bravery and heroism that had once been used to describe her father, now immortalized her–the hero of Mystic Falls. People told Caroline that she was blessed, for not all had an angle as a mother. Anyone looking from the outside may have thought Elizabeth Forbes left behind the perfect legacy–one filled with honor and valiance. But to Caroline her mother left behind nothing but insecurities and self-doubt.

She was seventeen when her mother died. Caroline completed her high school education and moved on to college, where she pursued–but never completed–a degree in psychology. Those who knew her described Caroline as someone with great light, but this was only because her joy stood so stark against the sorrow embedded in her heart.

Eventually Caroline fell into the same vicious cycle as many. Those who were abused often become the abusers. In her case she turned in a psych major for a badge. Turns out she too was meant to wear blue.

She excels in the field. Works well with the victims. Caroline Forbes is the perfect mix of compassion and ruthlessness. Everyone who works with her says she was meant to bear the shield–and she agrees. Like her mother and grandfather before her, she sacrifices her time and puts her all into work; however, she would not be making the same mistakes as her predecessors.

Caroline knew her mother idolized her father. Liz's whole life was spent trying to reach an unattainable objective and, because of this line of work, she wasn't a wife and she wasn't a mother. Caroline grew up in a makeshift foster system, bouncing from family to family, becoming independent before most learned the alphabet. She wouldn't allow herself to put anyone in the same situation. She'd do her job, but she wouldn't bring any child or man into it. Not that she was having much luck in that aspect of her life.

She'd had relationships. A high school school sweetheart that lasted well into college, as well as a boyfriend while in the academy. Both were static moments in her life. They weren't great loves and–after an incident while on the job a few months back–Caroline was convinced love was not in the cards for her.

Not that she was bothered by this fact. She loved her job. Working up the ranks kept her on her toes. Going from a traffic cop to detective in record time for her precinct, Caroline solved many of the major cases that her small town had to offer. Vandalism was cut nearly in half and many said she would be the youngest Sheriff the town had ever seen. She disagreed–a small town life wasn't enough for her.

For a few years she bounced around between precincts, spending time in major cities like Chicago and Los Angeles, before discovering her true calling: undercover work. She was a natural–played the perfect distraction every time. It provided a new thrill that she fed off like a junkie. So much so that some would argue she became reckless–trusted the wrong people.

That's how she ended up where she is today. New York Police Department's narcotics division. It provided a constant workload and it was just the distraction she needed after months in recovery.

New York was Caroline's chance to start anew. Stale coffee, endless paperwork, and a grumpy captain whose name she couldn't ever seem to remember encompassed Caroline's personal heaven–an escape from the Hell that had at one point been her life.

There was little to be said about narcotics, the cases were, for the most part, routine–especially for someone new to the area. A kid dealing drugs, a junkie overdosing, it was all in a day's work.

"Not exactly the glamour you expected, Goldilocks?" her partner asked while Caroline finished some last minute paperwork–burning the midnight oil.

"Maybe, but it's _exactly_ what I needed," she replies, not making eye contact.

She liked Enzo well enough. He was a decent cop, knew the area, and didn't push her for information she wasn't willing to give. He was a tad too flirtatious for her tastes, which put her on edge until she realized he was like that with all women.

"What I don't get, and stop me if I'm overstepping, is why any cop in their right mind would leave homicide for a bunch of crack-whores and deadbeats."

Caroline rolls her eyes, keeping her eyes on the screen in front of her. All the cops in this precinct wanted the same thing–to get out. The long hours and non-interest of the public made the thankless job of being a police officer all the more bleak. She too had once gunned for a space in the homicide division at one time, she'd wanted to have her name in the headlines as the detective who solved a high profile case, but then reality sunk in. Families destroyed, horrendous crime scenes, and people gone forever–most of whom did not deserve the fate bestowed on them by their fellow man. That was the reality of homicide. It was better here, in narcotics. Things were black and white. People made choices and those choices sometimes cost them their lives, but at least it made sense.

"You've obviously never worked a homicide case," is all she says.

Enzo huffs, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the desk as he looks her over, "doesn't matter. I've seen enough addicts to last a lifetime. Work this job for more than a couple weeks and I'm sure you'll regret this decision and go running back to whatever place you came from."

Finishing her report, Caroline closed her computer, "we'll see about that. See you tomorrow, Enzo."

Walking out of the building, Caroline checked her work phone, ensuring that the ringer was all the way up. She'd found out the hard way what can happen by one missed call and she wasn't the type of person to make the same mistake twice.

* * *

It took two months for New York to feel like home; it took three for the subways not to cause her skin to crawl. Caroline was quickly growing used to The Big Apple, when one day in early September her perfect world in the NYPD was turned on its head–not that she knew this at the time.

It was a rare day when Caroline actually wanted some time away from work. She was in central park, reading a trashy novel she'd picked up at the second hand bookstore in her neighborhood when it–or rather he–happened.

"Hello, love," his melodic voice practically purred as he took the seat next to her on the bench.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at his obvious ploy. This man clearly knows he's attractive, he knows that most women would probably find his accent alluring, but she's been there–done that. Blond curly hair and dimples wouldn't be enough to sway her from her precious moment of free time.

The best tactic, she'd concluded, was to ignore the unwanted source of attention.

"Come now, the least you can do is give me your name," the British man who she was not attracted to whispered.

When met with silence, he simply moved closer.

His behavior was unprecedented and she was about to reach for her pepper spray when he spoke again, "I need a favor."

Signing, Caroline marked her place, "and what can _I_ possible do for _you_?" Her tone is exaggerated and harsh.

"She speaks!" he exclaims.

Rolling her eyes, she was about to go back to her book when he elaborated, "My brother is looking for me and I need you to talk with me–make me look a little less inconspicuous,"

It was then that she truly sized him over. He was wearing a dark Henley, under a darker sweatshirt that was slightly too warm for the early September weather. The hood was up and his face was flushed, like he'd been running.

"Fine, what do you want to talk about?" she indulges.

"You. Your hopes, your dreams, everything you want in life," he answers without missing a beat.

She scoffs, "where did you get that from, the back of a fortune cookie?"

"In my defense it's worked wonders in the past," he smiles, not ashamed of admitting his blatant pickup line.

She nods, "I'm sure, but just for the record I'm too smart to be seduced by you."

"Come on love, take a chance. What do you have to lose?"

Sending him a look which clearly said she wasn't falling for his tricks, she gave him an honest answer to his original questions, "I want to help people. I want to be the best at what I do and I won't let anything stand in the way of doing what's right. That's all I need."

He nods, looking her over, "that may be all you need, but is that truly all you want, love?"

Caroline stills, growing uncomfortable with the route this conversation with a complete stranger was taking, "my work is enough for me."

He stretches his arms across the back of the bench, "I think you're worth more than a 9-5 job."

The sincerity in his voice unnerves her.

"Well, I guess that's because you don't know me very well." She stiffens, feels her walls coming up.

"Perhaps," he agrees, but the way he's looking at her makes her feel like he's dissecting her. She can't shake feeling exposed under his gaze.

Before she can respond something in the distance catches his attention and he swiftly says his goodbyes and disappears into the crowd emerging in central park.

Still stunned by his previous audacity, Caroline was only brought out of her stupor when her work phone buzzed.

 **Enzo: 10:29 AM**

Gomez bailed, need you to fill in.

 **Caroline: 10:30 AM**

Day off. Find someone else.

 **Enzo: 10:30 AM**

Can't perp has a thing for blondes.

 **Carline: 10:31 AM**

Then bleach your hair.

 **Enzo: 10:35 AM**

Decided it wouldn't be a good look. Please? I'll owe you one.

 **Caroline: 10:37 AM**

Tempting, but no.

 **Enzo: 10:38**

Did I mention perp has a thing for jailbait?

 _Great,_ she thinks to herself, _now I'll look like the asshole trying to get out of work at the risk of letting a pervert run loose._

 **Caroline: 10:42 AM**

Fine, just know I hate you.

 **Enzo: 10:42 AM**

Love you too, Gorgeous. Pick you up at 8, dress inappropriately.

 **Enzo: 10: 42 AM**

*appropriately ;)

Rolling her eyes Caroline resigns to the fact that her novel will have to wait and instead looks over the case file Enzo had emailed her.

The perp was a dark haired male with pale skin. According to his rap sheet he liked heroin and sleeping with underage girls. Some of the case notes said that it looked like he might have loose ties to the Salvatores–local drug pushers in New York. Caroline, or anyone else from her unit, had yet to find anything concrete on the Salvatores. They, unfortunately, were good at what they did. Outside of those well versed in the drug world, they were just another elite family who threw lavish parties with their closest friends–only their closest friends consisted of drug dealers, human traffickers, hit-men, and mobsters who would put Al Capone to shame.

Looking at the case statement, Caroline saw that Enzo hadn't entirely lied. The perp, Kai Parker, did seem to have a thing for blondes...and brunettes...and redheads...and basically anything with a pulse, which she supposed she qualified as.

With her day thoroughly spoiled, Caroline set out to sulk at home until Enzo picked her up for the usual short term undercover narcotics work. She'd pretend to be a loose girl in search of a good time, Kai would do something stupid, and maybe–if they were lucky–Caroline would get home before the Sopranos marathon ended.

* * *

Of course Enzo was late, so they didn't make it out until a quarter to nine.

She was dressed in a tight royal blue dress that reached her mid thigh, it left absolutely nothing to the imagination, but in her experience playing coy rarely got her what she wanted.

Enzo drove her to a club called _The Hummingbird_ owned by a local rich playboy. Low lighting, extensive alcohol selection, and several exits make it the perfect devil's den for someone looking to deal or obtain drugs. Needless to say this was not Caroline and Enzo's first time spending an evening in this illicit establishment.

Leaving their first names at the door, the two partners parted their separate ways once in the building. Caroline sat at a booth with a clear view of the entrance so she could catch Parker when he walked in and Enzo kept his distance, wanting to only step in if absolutely necessary.

Sipping her martini, Caroline felt time grow still. The hours dragged on and even though they knew Kai would make an appearance, having to wait for him to do so was excruciating.

She was halfway through her third drink when a familiar stranger plopped down next to her.

"Nice to see you again, sweetheart," the Brit from early today said.

"Go away," she ordered. This man had a unique talent to ruin everything. First her perfect morning and now her assignment. If she didn't need to keep a low profile she might have said some rather unsavory things.

"Really? After all we've been through how can you push me away?" he jokes.

"Easily," she said standing up, "if you'll excuse me," she turned to walk away but the man grabs her wrist, halting her movement.

"At least tell me your name," he implores.

"Amanda," she lies and he laughs.

"I know that's not true, Caroline."

She freezes, all of her training coming into play–she doesn't like others having the upper hand. Caroline relaxes a little when he lets out a jovial laugh at her expression, "I own this place, love, getting your name wasn't all that difficult."

"That's cheating," she accuses, but he just laughs at her.

"A cheater and a liar, what a pair we make."

As someone who makes a career out of pretending to be someone she's not, Caroline doesn't like not having control over the story.

"My name is Klaus," he extends his hand and she takes it.

"Can I go back to my evening now?" she asks, eager to get rid of him–her eyes darting every now and again to the door.

Klaus waves his arm towards her table, "you puzzle me, Caroline, but I'll figure you out yet," He flashes her a dimpled smile then goes to solve a commotion at the bar.

A half an hour later Kai walks through the door and Caroline has never been happier to see a convicted felon in her life. He walks through the club, buys a bottle of scotch, then sits in a dark corner of the room.

Hiking up her dress and cursing herself for letting Enzo guilt her into this, Caroline makes her way over to her target.

"Is this seat taken?" she asks, playing up how drunk she is.

Kai doesn't hesitante, "yes, but my lap is always free."

And just like that Caroline had him hook line and sinker. They ordered a few drinks, flirted a little, his hands started drifting, but other than that it was nothing Caroline couldn't handle, that was until the rule of threes kicked in.

Klaus practically tore her arm out of the socket pulling her off of Kai.

"I told you that you weren't allowed here anymore," he growls, shielding Caroline from Parker with his body.

"And I told you that if your sister didn't like it she would have asked me to stop." Kai says, winking at Caroline.

'It's not up for debate, you either leave now or I'll call security." Klaus threatens.

Grumbling, Kai drunkenly stands, "fine, come on gorgeous, I've got a king-size with your name in it. I mean on it." He hiccups in his drunken state.

Inwardly Caroline is thinking two things, one that his man couldn't hold his liquor at all–especially for someone who took more narcotics than five average junkies put together–and two that Klaus was going to completely screw this up.

She was right on both counts.

"She's not going anywhere with you," he says.

Kai laughs, "if she wanted you she wouldn't have been all over me while you ogled her from across the room."

That's when Klaus's fist somehow inserted itself into Kai's face. From there it all went downhill. The two break chairs, bottles, and probably limbs as they let out whatever repressed anger they have towards one another. Enzo and Caroline sneak out before either Klaus or Kai realize they've left. The partners agree that the captain wouldn't hear a word of this.

* * *

Slightly hungover, Caroline walks into work the next morning ready to put last night's debacle behind her. She hadn't caused the scuffle, nor had she participated in it, so she figures if she kept her head low it would be like the assignment at _The Hummingbird_ had never happened.

While her logic was sound, unfortunately Caroline forgot to take into account her rotten luck. Not even five minutes into the work day her captain–Alaric Saltzman–called her into his office.

Ready to plead her case and ask for a second chance she was surprised to see that they weren't the only two in the room. A woman with long curly brown hair and an older man who bore a striking resemblance to the Pillsbury Dough Boy stood on either side of the captain's desk.

"Officer Forbes, please take a seat." Pillsbury said.

Confused and only slightly afraid, she does as she's told. No one spoke for a long while, allowing the room to marinate in a unique kind of awkwardness.

The brunette was glaring at her even though Caroline was certain she'd never seen the woman before in her life, Alaric looked annoyed, and Pillsbury kept licking his lips like he was distracted by the taste of his own saliva.

"If this is about last night, sir, I promise it won't happen again," Caroline vowed.

The brunette rolled her eyes and made a rather rude noise that Caroline chose to ignore.

"Last night is why we're here," Pillsbury says, "I'm agent Miller and this is my associate agent Pierce. We're with the FBI."

Caroline repressed the urge to roll her eyes. It must have been the small town cop in her, but she couldn't stand feds. They went where they weren't needed and avoided where they were.

"Parker is a class D felon. Why is the FBI Interested?" Caroline asks.

This time the bitchy brunette speaks up, "if we wanted Parker we would have gotten him already."

Caroline can hear the insult in her voice, but since her boss is in the room she chooses to be civil.

"Then why are you here?" she swears getting information from these two is harder than from some of the criminals she has integrated.

"For the past year and a half we've been tailing the Mikaelsons. Do you know who they are Ms. Forbes?"

"No, sir." Caroline says focusing her attention on Pillsbury–agent Miller.

"Their family has a near monopoly on illegal activity in most of New York, Chicago, and New Orleans. Not to mention ties with drug trafficking in Vancouver and Rio. Agent Pierce's sister has retired from the field and with her we lost our biggest lead. The Mikaelsons aren't trusting of strangers, losing Tatia put our investigation back almost to square one."

Wishing they would just get to the point Caroline says, "I'm sorry, but I don't see how I can help you."

Pillsbury hands her a file.

"We need you to go undercover," he says.

Opening the manila folder, Caroline's heart stops. Staring back at her are the same pair of blue eyes she'd seen twice yesterday.

And just like that she knows she's totally screwed.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 _I've been wanting to write this story for over a year. Let me know what you guys think, I'm excited for you all to see how this tale unfolds._

 _-ShakespearianNerd_


	2. O Captain! My Captain!

**Chapter Two:** _O Captain! My Captain!_

* * *

"Excuse me?" she cries, but what she wants to say is _No way in Hell._

"We want you to go undercover, officer Forbes." he pauses then adds, "You could prove invaluable to our investigation."

Caroline scoffs, "I've met the man twice and I've known him for about a day. You'd be wasting your time."

 _Had budget cuts made the FBI so desperate that they outsourced their work to traumatized narcotics detectives?_ she wonders.

"We wouldn't be asking if we weren't out of options. We only have a slim opportunity, if you can capitalize on it, think of the lives you will save." Miller says, but Caroline is already checked out.

She couldn't do it. Caroline was used to the short term, being someone else for a night was easy—at times it was therapeutic. But what the feds were asking for had a way of changing a person; live a lie long enough and it starts to become the truth.

"I'm sorry sir, but I'm happy where I am." Caroline says, standing to shake Miller's and Pierce's hands.

"I understand," he says, a sad smile on his face, "I'd like to give you the week to reconsider, just in case."

The hopeful look in his eyes make it so she couldn't very well say no. He was like a puppy—an old, wrinkly puppy.

"So, they sending you back to Arkansas?" Enzo asks when she gets back to her desk.

"I grew up in Virginia," Caroline corrects him.

He shrugs, "tomato, tomahto."

The two settle into a comfortable silence and Caroline pulls up Parker's case file. Putting this guy behind bars would help set things back on track, because right now she couldn't help but feel like she was doing the wrong thing. Miller said she could save people. She was their only hope in a while, but if he'd read her paperwork then he knew she was hardly ready to go back into the field as it was. She loved her job dearly, but after what happened on her last major case she was hardly willing to throw herself back into the fray less than a year later.

"Forbes!" Enzo shouts, startling Caroline.

"What?!" She gasps.

"I asked why the stiffs were here," he says referring to the feds.

"It's a long story," she replies more than ready to leave it at that, but of course Enzo is just as stubborn as she is.

"It's a good thing then that I'm a fantastic listener."

"If I wanted to talk about it, I'd call a girlfriend." Caroline chooses to ignore the rude noise that comes out of his mouth.

"You and I both know, Forbes, that you don't have any friends."

"I will have you know that I have always been very popular," she insists.

"Name one," he prods.

"Jeremy."

"The guy who delivers your Chinese doesn't count, Goldilocks. Face it, you're a lonely cat lady."

"I don't have cat."

"Semantics," he waves it off.

Offended and agitated Caroline turns her focus back to the case file. Besides _The Hummingbird,_ Kai spends most of his time in Manhattan, probably helping the elites get their hands on some prescription drugs.

"Forbes," Enzo tries again, "I've been your partner for months. Please talk to me."

He's playing the relationship card. Whether he is being sincere or not doesn't matter. They both know he isn't going to let this go.

"Fine," she agrees, "but you have to answer my questions first."

"Deal," he says quickly.

"What do you know about the Mikaelsons?"

"Other than that everyone around them ends up dead, not much."

 _Well that's reassuring,_ she thinks to herself.

"Are they drug dealers, human traffickers... " she trails off thinking of the worst.

"From what I gather they do a little bit of everything, some things legal, a lot of things not. Drugs, prostitution, Wall Street, if it makes a buck they're willing to invest."

Nodding, Caroline tries to process how she feels about this information.

"They're like modern-day mobsters." Enzo adds, and he is definitely not easing Caroline's guilt for not helping takes these guys down.

"Why do you ask?" he questions.

"Remember that guy from the fight, not Parker—the other one." he nods, "well, apparently he's Niklaus Mikaelson."

Enzo laughs, the son of a bitch actually has the gall to laugh at her in this awful situation.

"You're kidding?" he asks like if she somehow changes her mind the whole joke will fall apart.

"The feds want me to go undercover," she says, putting her face in her hands. Really, she should write a book— _How Life Can Go to Hell in Less Than Twenty-Four Hours._

"Shit," Enzo says looking off at something in the distance, "guess this means I'm getting a new partner. Just when I thought you'd be here to stay."

"I'm not doing it," she says.

"It could set your career years ahead."

"I don't care about working up the latter anymore."

"So you'd stay here, taking deadbeats and lowlifes off the streets—most of whom only hurt themselves—instead of helping take down arguably the worst criminal ring in the 21st century."

Swallowing, her voice shakes when she responds, "when you put it like that…"

"Not that there's anything wrong with saying no, just, damn. What happened to you on your last major case that's got you so spooked?"

Caroline doesn't respond, instead she tries to focus on where she is here and now. She'd made so much progress. Caroline wouldn't allow a dimpled psychopath to drudge up some psychological damage she'd long since buried.

"Nothing, I just don't want the commitment right now." her tone is harsher than she'd intended.

"Whatever you say," Enzo raises his hand in mock surrender.

For the rest of the day Caroline tries to go back to creating a plan to put Parker behind bars, but her mind keeps wandering. _If it hadn't been for the case in NOLA would her answer be different? What if she was their last chance? How many people would die because she couldn't get over her own emotional baggage?_

She resisted for as long as she could, but once Enzo went out to lunch all bets were off. She uses Google as her own personal poison; Caroline knew it wouldn't help with her guilt, but she had to know for herself exactly what kind of people the Mikaelson family consisted of.

For the next hour she becomes an expert on all things Mikaelson.

The first things that comes up in her search is a picture of Mikael and Ester at a charity gala on the east end. As her search continues, Caroline finds several pictures of just Mikael, but none of Ester without her her husband close by.

As for their six children, Caroline found a plethora of images. Rebekah seemed like a typical heiress, spending more money in a day than Caroline makes in a year. Kol appeared to be the family screw up, pictured with a different group of girls in every article.

Of the eldest children, Finn and Elijah seemed the most normal. Both worked in law, Elijah was a criminal defense attorney and Finn's expertise laid in tax law. They'd helped their own family out on several occasions, but Elijah in particular was in high demand. He'd gotten several obviously guilty people off scot-free; he was practically the Robert Shapiro of their generation

Still, through all her searching she'd found little on Klaus. There was a picture of him when he'd first opened The Hummingbird and a few short articles on his poor anger management skills, but other than that he was barely featured in the public eye. In fact, the only person pictured less in the Mikaelson was the youngest, Henrik.

Upon further research, Caroline finds an article from about a decade prior. A house fire had cost the youngest Mikaelson his life, along with several other faculty members and a few house guests at the time. From the look of the picture, Klaus had been in his late teens to early twenties when Henrik died.

As horrible as these people allegedly were, Caroline couldn't help but feel sorry for the little boy. He'd probably been in the first grade at the time of death. _How does anyone get past a loss like that?_ she wonders.

Thoroughly depressed, Caroline continues her search, but she doesn't find much of anything. No victims, no fingers pointing at the Mikaelsons. They seemed like any other multi-billionaire family. Dysfunctional, but not illegal

Logging off her computer, Caroline heads home for the day. No matter how much the she wished it could be otherwise, she couldn't bring herself to help Pillsbury and Pierce. She just wasn't the cop for the job.

When she makes it back to her apartment complex, she finds a manila folder in her mailbox. It wasn't labeled and had no postage, but still curiosity got the best of her. Luckily, Caroline waits until she's in the privacy of her own living room before examining its contents.

The first picture was of a middle aged man strung up and bled like cattle. The second was of a young girl—from the look of her tattered attire she was a prostitute—her head was severed from her body. Men and women of all ages, mutilated beyond belief. Most of the victims would've been unrecognizable even to their families.

As the end of the file was a note. _These are the pictures the public never gets to see,_ it read, _turning your back only ensures that there will be more where this came from._

Sighing, Caroline consolidated the pictures and hid it in her desk drawer. She understood that Agent Miller needed help, but no matter how guilty she felt for saying no, she wouldn't change her mind. She had a good job doing what she loved; she didn't need any more than that.

* * *

The next week passes by slower than frozen molasses. Parker had yet to resurface and—perhaps as some way to punish her for the screw up at _The Hummingbird_ —Alaric hadn't assigned Caroline anything outside of mundane paperwork since the feds left.

It was close of shop on Friday when Alaric called her into his office.

Sitting down, glad to see it was just the two of them this time, Caroline asks, "what's this about, sir?"

Clearing his throat, Alaric says, "I just got a call from Agent Miller, he wants to know if you've reconsidered."

Caroline shakes her head, "I haven't."

Alaric sighs, "I thought you might say that."

Looking around the room Caroline had a sinking feeling that she was about to lose a major battle.

"Do you know how long I've worked as captain here, Forbes?" he asks.

"No, sir." she replies.

"Twenty years. Been on the force for thirty, made captain relatively young. Been here ever since." he pauses, allowing his angry gaze to wander for a second, "do you know how many cops I've seen walk through that door, Forbes?"

"I don't."

He is talking to her like she's a child. His tone and demeanor are derogatory, but still she keeps her head down. She loves her job too much to jeopardize it on being a smart ass.

"Hundreds, hundreds of cops, some not-so great, but several of them far better than you will ever be. So tell me _Forbes_ ," he spits her name like an insult, "of all the cops I've seen come through my door, why is it that my ass is on the line because of you."

Confused, Caroline says "I've done nothing to jeopardize your reputation."

Alaric lets out a bitter laugh, "I'm getting pressure from upstairs. They want you to work this damn Mikaelson case and I've been charged with the task of persuading you. Do you know what that means Forbes?"

She doesn't respond.

"It means that if you don't do as they say, I am going to lose my job. The job I've had for twenty years."

"Captain, I've made myself perfectly clear. I won't be joining the feds. I can't. I'm not ready."

Alaric rubs his temples, "do you know what the problem with your generation is? They want to be coddled. They think that because they're upset the whole world should stop for them. Consider this your dose of reality, you either join agent Pierce and Miller or you pack up your desk."

"You can't do that."

"And yet I am." He stands gesturing towards the door, "you have the rest of the evening to make your final decision. Miller will be contacting you later tonight"

Stunned, Caroline quickly exits his office. She hadn't expected to be forced back into the field. When she left Louisiana her old captain, Meredith, had assured her that Alaric was one of the most understanding men she'd ever met. Since Caroline had started working under him, she'd come to the conclusion that he could be a little bit of a hard ass, but she never thought he would bombard her like this.

Going home Caroline began the preparations to going undercover. She burned the file given to her on the Mikaelsons. Clearing her mind she began the process of deleting her old life.

First thing on her checklist was to collect all of the things with her name on them. When Pillsbury relocated her she couldn't risk bringing proof of her old life. Instead she'd have to live in the home of the person she was pretending to be, rather than who she was.

As she went through the motions, Caroline was still unsure of what to do. So, she called the only person she knew would have her back.

"I knew you couldn't deny this attraction forever, Gorgeous," Enzo purrs from the other line.

"Shut up Augustine," she barks, "I need your help."

"What can I do you for?" He asks, slightly taken aback. She'd never reached out to him like this before.

"Saltzman is totally up my ass, he's making me take the Mikaelson case." The panic in her voice can't be hidden.

She hears him sigh on the other lie, "can't say I'm surprised by that."

"Why not?"

"You really don't listen to any of the water-cooler gossip, do you Forbes?" Enzo asks incredulously, "don't you know anything about the Captain's career?"

Caroline pauses, but she comes up blank "outside of what he told me today, not really."

Enzo lets out a snort, "you need to work on your people skills."

Growing impatient, Caroline snaps "just tell me Enzo."

"Alright, alright. No need to get impatient. Little over fifteen years ago, Saltzman had a lead on the Salvatores. Closest anyone has even been to nailing the family since then. He worked day and night, was absolutely obsessed. He would have done just about anything to put their asses behind bars, which is why they put a hit on his wife, Isobel."

"That's awful," she whispers.

"After that the lead they had dropped off the face of the Earth. Since then all information even remotely involved with the Salvatores goes through him,"

Putting the pieces together, Caroline says, "so he's putting his own failures on me."

It comes out harsher than she intends.

"That's one way of looking at it, but the way I see it you could be the last chance he has to avenge the death of his wife before he retires."

Nodding to herself, Caroline sighs, "Enzo I'm not ready."

"What's the worst that can happen, Caroline?" He asks, his voice gentle.

In response Caroline tells her about the case in Louisiana-well, as much as she can muster.

"I caused the death of a civilian."

"It was an accident," he assures her.

"Doesn't matter, he's dead because of me. What happens if I go back in the field now? I'm too weak—distracted."

He hums in agreement, "how many people will die if you don't Forbes?"

Caroline stalls, "when you say it like that I guess…"

"Look, it's up to you. No matter what you're still a damned good cop. Certainly the best partner I've ever had."

"Thanks Enzo, I just, I don't think I'm ready."

"but will you ever be?"

And with that the conversation comes to an end and she's made her decision. She may not like it, but, at this time in her life, her job is really all she's got. Enzo made a point, she couldn't risk her career, the lives of countless innocent, and her self worth on the possibility of a repeat of NOLA.

So she starts to truly prepare.

Racking her brain, Caroline tries to recall the things Klaus knew about her. Unfortunately he knew her first name, so she'd have to keep that. He also knew that she wanted to help people, so if she posed as a secretary he'd probably questioned it.

As per usual Caroline starts the building of her new identity with a name. After an unreasonable amount of time searching up surnames and their origins Caroline settled on the last name of Callahan—she supposed it had a nice ring to it. Caroline Callahan. Keeping her first name wasn't ideal, but there wasn't really any other option at this point.

As for her job experience, Caroline decided to put to use the student debt she accumulated in what seemed like another life. She'd pose as an aspiring doctor, working towards her way through med school. The feds could fill out the necessary paperwork and she'd be set.

The rest of the details she fleshed out were more so for her own piece of mind. Instead of being a head cheerleader, Caroline Callahan was captain of her school's gymnastics team. She was also an only child, but her parents had an amicable divorce and she fell into the primary custody of her father.

Caroline Callahan was similar enough to Caroline Forbes that mistakes wouldn't be made, but they were not so alike that one could easily be linked to the other.

True to what Alaric said, her phone rang around nine that night.

"Hello, is this Caroline Forbes?" a voice Caroline recognizes as agent Miller asks.

"Yes, sir." she says.

"I've been told you've reconsidered our request," he sounds hopeful and that only angers Caroline. Of course Alaric had already put the works in motion, he was so determined in his office she was surprised he hadn't packed up her apartment for her.

"I have," she says and before he can cut in she adds, "but I do have a few conditions."

"I'm sure that can be arranged, Ms. Forbes. I will meet you in your captain's office tomorrow morning and we'll go over the details then."

"All right, have a nice evening Agent Miller."

"You too, Ms. Forbes."

She goes to sleep that night trying to pretend that she is, in fact, Caroline Callahan. A girl whose life stayed on the same track—who had two loving parents raise her instead of none. It's easy to pretend, so easy that Caroline worries she might forget herself in the process.

* * *

Being in Alaric's office for the third time was less nerve racking, because now things were on her terms.

She'd laid out her conditions, the ability to leave if things get too heated, job security when this was over, and she demanded to be kept in the loop.

"I've been down this road many times," she says, looking Miller in the eye, "I don't care what the news is. I will not be kept in the dark on anything regarding this case. If I find that you or anyone in your agency has kept something from me, I will walk out. No questions asked."

Nodding, Miller writes a note in his little black book, "that can be arranged Ms. Forbes. I promise we won't let any harm come to you."

 _Yeah, I've heard that one before,_ she thinks.

"Furthermore," Miller adds, "we will have witness protection ready in case anything goes awry. I assure you, we have every possible avenue covered."

What she wants to say is that she knows they don't and that she's played this game before. Caroline knows the risks and doesn't want to be coddled, but instead she smiles and nods.

"Thank you, agent Miller."

"If that's all Ms. Forbes, we'd like to introduce you to your handler and get the groundwork set for you to start infiltrating the Mikaelsons."

"There is one more thing."

He waits.

"I want Enzo involved. He's my partner and I need someone I can trust out on the field."

"He's not trained, we're already taking in a risk with you bu—"

"We're a packaged deal, I want him involved with my handling. I need to know someone on my side is making decisions for my well-being."

Seeing that she's not going to budge on this, Miller nods and goes to shake her hand.

"I look forward to working with you, Ms. Callahan." he says with a smile.

Caroline wishes she could say the same, but unfortunately she cannot shake the feeling that the world is about to implode.

This whole thing was just a disaster waiting to happen.


	3. In Katherine We Trust

**Chapter Three:** _In Katherine We Trust_

* * *

"I look forward to working with you, _Ms. Callahan_ ," Miller says with a grandfather like smile on his face.

Once the sudden rush of impending doom leaves her system Caroline quickly exits the room. Shortly after, Alaric rises to address the agent.

"I expect to be kept in the loop," he says.

"We promise to involve you as much as possible, Captain Saltzman," Miller agrees in a kind voice that to the captain appears to be more condescending than comforting.

Alaric straightens up, "let me rephrase. I _will_ be involved in all aspects of this case. I am responsible for my officers and I will not allow Ms. Forbes to be put in unreasonable danger."

"Watch it, Saltzman. I am your superior," Miller's tone was as authoritative as his rounded shape and friendly features could allow, "you know as well as I that we'd never allow Ms. Forbes to come into any unnecessary harm," he assures, but Alaric doesn't buy it.

"While my morals may be questionable, my loyalty isn't. I got Ms. Forbes into this mess and as her superior I will make sure she's taken care of."

As it stands Alaric towers over agent Miller by at least two feet. While Miller excelled at his job, he was easily intimidated and often took things at face value when there was more beneath the surface.

"I will see what can be arranged," he says.

* * *

Monday morning rolls around and it's worse than usual. Instead of waking up with a plan, Caroline greets the beginning of her work week with fear, dread, and worst of all an empty calendar. Today she's supposed to meet with Pillsbury and Pierce to relocate and figure out the first step to getting her into the Mikaelson's inner circle.

Wearing a simple pair of jeans and a blue blouse, Caroline strolls into a Brooklyn diner around 9:00 AM. She's greeted with a hopeful looking Miller and an annoyed Pierce.

"Sit down, Ms. Forbes," Miller says.

Doing so, Caroline quickly orders a coffee and shifts awkwardly in her seat.

"So…where do we begin?" Caroline asks.

Pierce huffs, clearly thinking that the blonde at the table isn't worth the time.

Miller hands her a set of keys and a new wallet, "you'll be residing in a small apartment on the upper east side-close to one of Niklaus Mikaelson's main residences. In the wallet you'll find your new ID's. We suggest you get rid of all documentation with your old name."

Caroline nods, "already done. What are we going to say about what I do for a living?"

Though she'd given them the profile she'd made on _Caroline Callahan,_ she knew that ultimately the decisions were in the feds' hands.

"We've arranged for you to take classes at NYU's medical school and an internship at a local hospital," Miller says handing her a schedule of her new activities.

She lets out a sigh of relief, knowing that she's had some sort of control over the decisions impacting her alleviates some of the hopelessness she'd felt when originally shoehorned into taking this case. As they square away the minor details, Caroline begins to calm down. They're covering all their bases—so far she isn't seeing any major holes in their story.

"Agent Pierce will be your way into the Mikaelsons, she's been on the outskirts of their inner circle since we began this investigation."

"What's your story?" Caroline asks.

"To them I'm Katerina Petrova, a bartender just living one day at a time. Clean and simple, no need to pursue a fake college degree."

Caroline blushes and looks away, _Maybe Katherine just wasn't a morning person,_ she thinks.

"How do we plan on me meeting Klaus again?" She figures it wouldn't be left to chance.

"Rebekah is throwing a 1920's party at the pavilion on Saturday. You'll be my plus one." Katherine says, not bothering to look at her.

"You'll have a few days to settle into your life as Caroline Callahan. We expect great things from you, Ms. Forbes."

"Thank you, sir," she says standing to take her leave.

Seeing as she wasn't exactly allowed to head back to her precinct, Caroline decides to wander around central park for a few hours before settling down at a fountain to read the book she hadn't been able to crack open due to the dimpled pest who'd turned her life upside down.

Hours pass by and she's almost half way through the story. The main character, a young naïve girl, is starting to stand her own against her captor, when Caroline is yet again interrupted.

 _This book must be cursed;_ she thinks as she looks up to see who was sitting entirely too close for comfort.

Upon seeing his face her heart stops, "so we meet again, love," he says, his eyes taking her in.

"Klaus," she says as a greeting turning back to her book, trying to send him a message. What happened to a few days to settle into her new life? Honestly, if Klaus was intent on stalking her was any of this elaborate ruse really necessary?

Obviously unable to take a hint Klaus says, "I should probably apologize for my behavior the other night."

"Probably," Caroline agrees.

"But I can't help feeling you owe me an explanation."

Caroline freezes, "excuse me?" she cries, completely taken aback.

"You left without saying goodbye, Caroline." He replies with a wounded look.

"You were acting like a crazy person," she asserts.

"I was defending your honor."

Rolling her eyes, knowing that never in a million years would she have slept with Kai, Caroline responds, "you were preventing me from getting laid."

Klaus chuckles, "Parker wasn't your only option that night." The way he's looking at her makes his innuendo clear.

"Did it ever cross your mind that I might not like you?" she asks.

"No," he says immediately and she laughs.

"Has anyone ever told you that you've got a big head?" she asks.

Klaus chuckles, "yes, but probably not in the way you're thinking."

Slightly disturbed, Caroline lets out a shiver of what's she's sure is disgust, "you're full of yourself."

"Mmm, but I'd rather you be full of me, love." He drawls and this time his words make less sense and she can smell the bourbon on his breath.

Looking him over—his glazed expression and his disheveled attire—Caroline comes to one definitive conclusion.  
"You're drunk"

 _A mobster and a day drinker—what a catch,_ Caroline thinks.

"Maybe just a smidgen," he says leaning forward.

"It's one in the afternoon."

"What can I say, love? I'm ambitious." Klaus shouldn't be enjoying his time with her as much as he is, but he can't help it—he feels like he knows her. She's become an obsession of his lately.

"You need to go home," Caroline says.

"I have a strong objection to going home alone."

Sighing, Caroline stands up. "come one, we're getting you home then."

"Shouldn't you buy me dinner first, love?" he deadpans.

Letting out a sarcastic laugh Caroline ushers him up, "all right Mr. Funny guy, stand up."

Doing so, it's clear Klaus can hardly walk, so Caroline supports him the best she can as she makes it to the street to call a cab. She didn't plan on riding with him, but he pulls her in—asking her to sit next to him.

Once settled on the way to his home, Klaus leans into Caroline's touch.

"Is there any reason you're killing off brain cells so early in the morning?" she asks.

"Habit."

Nodding, Caroline allows a surprisingly comfortable silence to settle between the two of them. Once they make it to his building she helps him to the elevator and walks him to his door.

"Care to join me, Caroline?" He asks, brushing his hand down her arm.

"I'll pass, Klaus."

"I'll take that as a rain-check."

He opens the door and she's about to help him make it to bed when her interject, "not so fast, love. Can't have you knowing all my secrets just yet." Then he places a quick kiss on her cheek and disappears inside of his penthouse condo.

 _Seriously!_ Caroline thinks to herself completely dumbfounded as she stands in front of his door.

Making note of where he lives for future reference she heads to her new home hoping to make it somewhat livable before evening falls.

* * *

After that first day, just like Pillsbury promised, Caroline had a few blissful days to settle in. She decorates her apartment which could more accurately me described as a shoe box. For the first time in ages Caroline watches television and sleeps in. Soon she'll be a med student with absolutely no idea what she's doing. The fact that if the Mikaelson family doesn't kill her, the course load might has become a reality in her life.

The 1920's party is on Saturday evening which leaves Caroline little more than a day to prepare. She's already set aside her makeup and done all her research for her hair style—all that's left is the perfect dress. Something that, unfortunately, Katherine would be helping with.

The loudmouth barges through the door around 8:00 AM when Caroline's only just beginning to shake the sleep from her body.

"What the Hell Pierce!" she screams, nearly dropping her mug of coffee.

Rolling her eyes at Caroline's exclamation, Katherine looks around in what appears to be disgust. Obviously the brunette is not a fan of Caroline's interior design skills. "We have to get you up to speed," she replies.

"How did you get in?" Caroline asks in a mix of fear and wonder, going over to the door to make sure Katherine hadn't kicked it in when she very well could've knocked.

"I have key," she replies like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why?" Caroline asks in astonishment.

Letting out an exasperated sigh and falling to the couch, Katherine answers "do you really think a med student with a hardly paid internship could afford a place like this alone?"

Caroline looks around and while the place is tiny, she has to admit given its location it probably would still cost an arm and a leg knowing New York's prices.

"Maybe I have a rich uncle," she says and Katherine snorts.

"Like they haven't heard that one before."

"What's your point, Katherine?"

Standing up and grabbing her coat, she quickly says, "I hope you're not attached to this sofa, because if I'm going to live here it has to go."

 _Great,_ she thinks, _now even when I'm alone I have to be surrounded by this case._

"Why the hell would I want to live with you?"

Rolling her eyes, Katherine gives Caroline what she considers to be field 101, "it's not about what you want Caroline, it's about what gets the job done. As far as the Mikaelsons or anyone else is concerned, you and I are childhood friends. You're pursing your dream of being a doctor and have enough money saved up to split the rent of this place with me—your fully employed, successful bartender friend."

Caroline nods, and though she doesn't like it, she knows it makes sense. This would clear up any questions about why she and Katherine were suddenly attending the same parties.

"You transferred to NYU this semester from Tulane" Katherine adds, "and now your only goal in life is to fuck Niklaus Mikaeslon."

Caroline cringes at Katherine's crude language, "I still have morals, Pierce. I'm not going to have sex with someone just to better the case."

Katherine looks at her and is clearly thinking that Caroline doesn't belong in this particular line of work, "you'll do whatever it takes to get this case over and done with," she says.

It appears as though the two have reached an impasse. For a woman who has been in the field for over a year, it was hard not being able to genuinely make new friends. Katherine was ready to cut her losses and leave. The agency had been so close to doing so too—one more month of static and she would've been home free. But then Klaus started thinking with his dick instead of his brain. Caroline didn't know it, but he'd been checking her out for weeks. His little encounter with her in the park a week or so ago was not a moment of chance. When Klaus sees something he wants he'll hunt it down and that's exactly what he was doing. He was hunting Caroline and while Katherine had no idea why—nor did Miller-they were going to play along with it.

Now if they told Caroline any of this she was sure the blonde would run for the hills, so for now they let Caroline spin whatever narrative she wanted to. All they needed was a tiny crack in the Mikaelson armor and hopefully everything would come toppling down.

The woman in question is currently stunned into silence. Caroline was used to the "whatever it takes attitude," but now it felt different. Maybe it was because it was her first undercover case since she'd caused the death of civilian in New Orleans, but this felt personal. The line between Caroline Forbes and Caroline Callahan was blurry and she could feel herself becoming entangled in her own web of lies.

"You have 30 minutes, get ready. We're getting dresses today," Pierce says looking out the window of their new home.

The view was great—well great, if you liked looking at the brick walls of the adjacent complex. Still, this was the best apartment for the job. Its location was unprecedented. It was within walking distance of all the major Mikaelson haunts as well as it was across the street from the gym that Niklaus himself visited at odd hours of the morning—a fact that gave Katherine some ideas for dastardly suggestions to send Caroline's way.

Nearly forty minutes later, Caroline and Katherine made their way out of the tiny apartment and headed to a vintage shop not too far off of Broadway.

"Being in with the Mikaelson crowd means more than watching what you wear," Katherine tells her, "it means watching where you buy it from."

"I'm pretty sure Klaus couldn't care less where I buy my dress," Caroline says and Katherine snorts.

"You'd be right—if you were just dealing with Klaus. His sister, Rebekah, will tear you to pieces should you even look at her the wrong way."

It turns out nearly anything could offend Rebekah. Pulling a soft eggshell flapper dress off of one of the rack, Caroline didn't get the chance to even make one step towards the fitting room before Katherine snatched it out of her hands.

Shaking her head, she tells Caroline "Rebekah is wearing white—don't you listen to anything I say?"

Every other choice Caroline made turned out to be equally inadequate. They either made her look too cheap, too available, or too desperate.

"I give up!" Caroline gasps, after trying on what's she's sure was every dress in the store.

Katherine rolls her eyes and heads to the back of the racks. Truthfully, most of the dresses Caroline picked would've been fine, but seeing her new "partner" squirm gave Katherine a certain amount of satisfaction. She resented Caroline. Caroline was the ball and chain tethering her to this case which she would give nearly anything to get out of.

Picking a simple red flapper dress by a designer that Rebekah admired (but thankfully wouldn't wearing to this event), Katherine throws it at Caroline telling her they're ready to go.

The two of them travel around downtown for the rest of the morning. While they make a forty-five-minute trek to Katherine's favorite coffee place, Caroline is drowning in a tide of her own indecision. On one hand she should tell Katherine—and Pillsbury—that she'd seen Klaus just the other day, but on the other it felt personal. Maybe it was because she knew him before she went undercover, but Caroline has yet to see Klaus as the bad guy. For now, he was just an annoying drunk who probably had a penchant for blondes.

The time passes between Katherine and Caroline like molasses. Neither feels comfortable around the other. Throughout the entirety of the day Katherine makes small, undermining comments about Caroline's career and work history.

"I'm a good cop," Caroline says in defense of her reputation.

"Yes, I definitely got that impression when Parker escaped being arrested for felony charges with the added bonus of his hand up your skirt."

Knowing that Katherine was very well aware that it was only light petting, Caroline doesn't allow herself to fully sink to Katherine's level, "sometimes working out on the field doesn't go the way you want it to. You should know that better than anyone."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You've been working this case for over a year and now you're pulling in an under-qualified, traumatized cop? Yeah, sounds to be like you've got this completely under control."

"Yes, because you're obviously going to be such a huge help to this case," Katherine replies, her voice heavy in sarcasm.

Having had enough, Caroline bursts, "What's your problem! You got what you wanted, I'm working the case!"

"What makes you think I'd want to be partners with you?"

Angry, Caroline holds her head up high, "I don't know, maybe the manila folder you and Miller shoved in my mailbox?'

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Katherine says, looking at Caroline like she's a crazy person.

"The Mikaelson file with the crime photos…" she trails, searching for some sort of sign of recognition in Katherine.  
"Now, Caroline, I know you're upset, but there's no need to make up stories."  
"I am not a liar, Pierce."

"And I don't break protocol, Forbes."

"What are you talking about?"

Katherine huffs, "do you really think we'd want you working with us if you weren't entirely willing to be here? Hell, I wouldn't want to work with you even if you'd jumped for joy at the opportunity."

"Then why put pressure on my boss, threaten his livelihood and mine, _and_ send me horrific photos."

Katherine laughs, "sounds like someone is pulling the wool over your eyes."

Caroline's heart speeds up. Suddenly things are no longer in her control, "who else would want me on this case outside of you and Miller?"

"That's something you'll have to find out for yourself. All I know is that we couldn't force you into anything, so whatever you think you know is wrong."

Now that wasn't entirely true. The fact that someone had sent classified photos to the residence of an officer not on the case could pose to be a threat to the entire investigation. While it very well could've been a scare tactic poorly done by one of the lower people in the works of this case, the small chance that there was a mole in their operation was enough to put Katherine on edge.

Of course, she would be making sure Caroline didn't know exactly how serious this could prove to be.

"What am I supposed to do?" Caroline asks, unsure of whether or not she should be freaking out over this.

"Well that's up to you, but for now I think we have bigger fish to fry," Katherine says her eyes suddenly focusing on a figure looming towards them.

"What—" Caroline begins, before she turns around to see a face that she'd become all too acquainted in the past week.

"Head up _Callahan,_ the fun is just beginning!" Katherine says.


End file.
